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by courtneythenerd



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Ableist Language, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Depression, Disassociation, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Self-Harm, descriptions of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-08 03:25:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4288914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/courtneythenerd/pseuds/courtneythenerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia tries to forget. Scott tries to hide. But they are still who they are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Forget

**Author's Note:**

> All rights to Teen Wolf characters belong to creators of Teen Wolf television series.

Her student file is going to say she’s a former Eichen House patient.

Lydia knows this already. It’s not the worst thing the file is going to have on it, so it doesn’t really faze her all that much. It’s not like Lydia allows herself thoughts of Eichen, anyway.

The worst thing the file is going to say is all of the details of what happened before Eichen. Hearing voices, disappearing from a hospital, strangulation marks, screaming at school, spacing out, the deaths. Everyone is going to expect her to kill herself. Or at the very least start hysterically screaming in the middle of her Anthropology lecture.

(Wouldn’t matter if she did, though. It just means someone else is dead.)

Everyone’s watching her. Everyone’s always watching her.

Lydia doesn’t let herself think about that too much, though. She doesn’t think about fighting in the rain or being dragged down halls, stairs or across grass fields. She doesn’t let herself think about frantic, whispered conversations with Stiles, shaky punches into the palms of Jordan’s hands, the way Malia’s eyes quiver when she’s trying to hide fear or how Kira looks when her head’s been cracked open again. Lydia doesn’t let herself think about monsters wearing bone masks, claws in her side, wire rope being tied around her throat, knives in stomachs or black blood pouring out of someone’s mouth. She doesn’t let herself remember what it’s like to have a scream wretched out of her core, dragged through her throat and explode outside of her. For a life to end as soon as the scream echoes across space.

 Lydia shoves those thoughts to the back of her head as easily as shoves thoughts of student files and concerned glances.

(Too bad they don’t go further away.)

As far as Lydia is concerned, no one at Stanford needs to know what Beacon Hills is. They don’t need to know her screams mean either Heaven or Hell has a few new residents. They don’t need to know she’s seen more monsters and blood than any of them ever used to dream about when they were kids. They don’t need to know about her mom, her Alpha or the people she’s almost died with. They don’t need to know about Aiden. Or Allison.

No.

Lydia doesn’t let herself think about that.

Lydia lets herself think about putting in a Fix-It request for that blinking light in her bathroom or for the way her dorm room door squeaks. She lets herself think about memorizing the map of the campus, so she’ll always know far away her house is from the science buildings on campus. Lydia lets herself think about declaring her major in Biology and how she’s going to have to rock her letter of declaration. That’s all.

It can be much easier.

It won’t be banshee screams and death. It will be college and maybe it’ll be enough to quiet the noises Lydia still hears in the back of her head. Noises that remind her of what she’s been.

 (What she still is. What she always will be.)

It’ll be enough. It won’t be much, but it will be enough.

**

Autumn Quarter:

  *          Introduction to Brain and Behavior
  *          Anthropology 1: Introduction to Cultural and Social Anthropology
  *          THINK 2: The Art of Living
  *          History 41Q: Mad Women: Women and Mental Illness in U.S. History



**

The first person she sees in her Introduction to Brain and Behavior class is Scott McCall. He sits in the second row and smiles nervously at her when she comes in.

Scott _did_ want to talk to her before she left, didn’t he?

Lydia looks at him, and her lips curve upwards.

_Are you in the right class?_

_AP Biology._

_Do you_ know _what “AP” stands for?_

 _Advanced Placement_.

He’d smiled much bigger back then.

Lydia sits in the front row, in the seat in front of Scott’s. She’s very grateful when he doesn’t say anything.

**

Lydia should really apologize for that, one day. Scott’s a lot smarter than everyone’s always thought.

**

Lydia overhears Scott lists his autumn quarter to some girl in their Biology class. Introduction to Brain and Behavior; Philosophy 182, the study of the truth; THINK 6, “Everyday Life, How History Happens;” and Psych 138: Wise Interventions.

Lydia bites back a snort. That schedule sounds _so_ Scott McCall appropriate.

**

Lydia pretends to not hear Scott calling her name after class is over.

She’d called his name almost constantly, at one point. He’d yelled hers quite often then, too.

**

Biology is _hard_ all of a sudden and Lydia doesn’t have the energy to study. There’s lecture on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays and lab on Monday evenings. That’s on top of Anthropology on Wednesday afternoons, History on Tuesday mornings and the THINK class on Thursday afternoons. That’s on top of operating on little to no sleep per night because of the fact Malia and Kira stare at her while she’s sleeping and her mother grabs her arms and shakes her awake only to vanish the instant Lydia opens her eyes.

And _that’s_ on top of seeing Scott every other day.

Lydia sometimes wants to laugh at herself. How’d she figure she’d be able to pretend she was away from it all when Scott still exists, was even in a class with her? When Scott smiled at her every time he saw her.

It’s a little funny. Mostly pathetic and draining, but a little funny, too.

**

Lydia hears the term “female hysteria” in History and listens as the professors explains how women were often not given proper medical treatment well because of it. Lydia distantly thinks things have not changed at all.

**

Lydia’s THINK professor wants the class to analyze the way they live so that they’ll be able to formulate a hypothesis on how their particular style of living was created.

While the professor lectures, Lydia writes down three sentences on her paper and draws fangs and a knife in the corner. Hypothesis done.

**

Scott has made friends with pretty much everyone in their Bio class. They all love Scott (of course they do, Lydia sometimes thinks bitterly) because he’s smart, earnest and willing to stay up late nights helping them with hopeless notes (of course he does, Lydia sometimes thinks sadly.) Scott is suddenly popular on campus. He’s known as a gentleman, who doesn’t hit on the girls and knows how convince a professor to give someone else an extension.

Really, Scott could’ve asked anyone to study with him. But he rushed up to Lydia after class one Monday morning.

“I want to study with _you_ ,” Scott tells her when she asks _why_. He says it with a frown, his voice too serious for the question he’s asking.

“Lydia,” he says, his voice on edge, “I’m still your friend.”

Lydia bites on the inside of her mouth to keep from screaming at him that she’s forgotten what that is supposed to be mean anymore.

“I mean, if you want me to be,” Scott backpedals, blinking too fast and looking much too uncertain of himself and of her.

Friend.

_My friends . . . they’re all gonna die . . ._

But they didn’t.

“Is that the only reason?” Lydia asks with more of a bite than she means too.

Scott gives a small smile and sighs. “Well, that and the fact that you went through the hell that was Beacon Hills’s version of AP Bio with me.”

Lydia snorts and starts to laugh before she realizes it. Lydia doesn’t dwell on the fact it’s the first real laugh she’s had since she started college almost two months ago.

Scott smiles at her again, looking relieved.

**

They have a study date every Tuesday afternoon at 3:30 pm. Scott and Lydia comb through the world’s driest bio books and pour over the world’s most hastily written, complicated notes and Scott doesn’t ask Lydia why she hasn’t spoken to him since she found out they were both enrolled at the same school, both prospective majors in Biology. Scott doesn’t ask why she hasn’t spoken to Kira or Malia or Stiles or Mason or why Lydia sometimes stares at him in class and rushes out without saying anything. Scott doesn’t ask why Lydia sometimes looks like she hadn’t left her room in days. They just study together.

It’s perfect.

**

“Hey, Lydia?”

“Yeah?”

“What other classes do you have?”

“Why?”

“Just curious.”

“Well, I have that stupid THINK class.”

“Which one?”

“The ‘Art of Living.’”

“Sounds a little corny, but nice. What else?”

“Plus I have History, the study of women and mental illness.”

“Wow, that sounds . . . intense.”

“No kidding. And I have Introduction to Cultural and Social Anthropology.”

“Hm. I think I know a couple of people in that Anthropology class, actually. They’d be cool for to make like a study group with . . .”

. . . What?”

“Nothing, Scott.”

**

Lydia studies for almost all of her mid-terms alone, pacing around her room while rattling off historical and anthropological facts and conjuring up a way to bullshit an introspective theory about why she’s the way she is.

Bio’s different, of course. For Bio, she and Scott sit underneath a tree in the yard of her dorm, the Serra House, and quiz each other until they get tired. When they stretch out underneath the tree for a study break, Lydia is hyperaware of her leg pressing against Scott’s.

**

Her Bio mid-term is a lot easier than Lydia expects. The answers come to her in a way she hadn’t experienced in three years. When she walks out of the room, she rewards herself with a smile.

The cocky smile is still there when she notices Scott, who’d finished the exam five minutes before her, waiting for her. His face lights up when he sees her smiling like that.

**

Scott ruins it one day.

They’re reading their lecture notes in the courtyard. It’s the night before Halloween and cooler than they expected. They sit close, bundled up in their jackets and try to stay focused. Lydia’s eyes would’ve glazed over by now if they weren’t occasionally watching the way Scott’s eyebrows furrow.

“Hey Lydia,” Scott says softly, still staring at his notes. (Scott must be trying to pretend not to notice the staring, Lydia decides.)

“Yes?”

“Have you called your mom, lately?”

In her nightmares, yes. Lydia screams at a shadow of her mother every night. In reality . . .

“Why?” Lydia asks, going for dead voice and failing. The question is enough of an answer, anyway.

“My mom said she asked about you again,” Scott says, trying for casual. He’s such a bad faker. “She said you guys hadn’t spoken—”

“In one month,” and the dead voice is real this time.

Scott looks up, looking unbearably concerned. He doesn’t ask the question. He just looks.

“I don’t know what to say to her anymore,” Lydia answers anyway.

Scott nods slowly. “Do you want me to tell her that?” he offers gently.

Lydia shakes her no, nope, not a good idea. That’s worse than not saying anything at all, really.

They go back to studying, but now Lydia can only see flashes of horror in her mother’s eyes.

Her leg starts to shake incessantly and Scott, without looking up from his notes, gently places his hand on it and murmurs for her to try to relax.

Lydia’s face flushes and she feels warm all over.

**

Lydia sleeps through all of her classes the next day. Her RA, Meagan, knocks on her door to check on her.

Lydia answers it with messed up hair and a tightened stomach. Her RA is nice, she really is, but she’s also the spitting image of Braeden, the mercenary. When Lydia met her during her floor’s first meeting, she stared at the side of the girl’s neck for almost five minutes straight, imaging a deep scar instead of perfect brown skin. When she’d realized she’d been staring, she felt embarrassed and begged herself to get it together, _please_.

“Lydia, are you okay? Are you sick?” Meagan asks too gently. Of course she knows Lydia’s history and Lydia knows Meagan’s waiting on her to crack open.

She’d hate the girl for it if she weren’t so damn nice.

Lydia tells Meagan that yes, she’s fine, just stayed up too late trying to study and has the slightest bit of a migraine right now. Meagan says she understands, but Lydia knows she’s gonna write it down somewhere once she’s left Lydia’s doorway.

Lydia wants to go into her RA’s room and rip up every piece of paper with the words “Lydia Martin,” “Eichen House,” and “troubled” on them. Instead, Lydia closes her door and curls up on her bed.

She has four missed calls from Scott.

**

Scott asks how she’s feeling and she tells him she’s tired, but sleeping doesn’t help.

“I know what you mean,” Scott says with a grimace to himself.

He’s not quite looking at Lydia, she sees. His eyes look like he’s gone someplace far, far away today.

**

Lydia makes up for the day of missed classes by working as hard as she can on her THINK paper, making it less bullshit. Lydia also reads two sections ahead of her History book and ignores all the flashbacks the words give her.

Malia’s name flashes across her phone screen for the fifth time in three weeks. Lydia ignores that, too.

**

“Hey Lydia?”

“Yeah?”

They’re both trying for casual. They’re both failing. This spells trouble to Lydia.

“Do you wanna get dinner after lab on Monday?”

The achy hole in her chest is what makes her say “Yes” almost instantly. The grateful look in Scott’s eyes is what makes her not regret it.

**

Scott takes her to a warmly lit, cozy Thai place one of his friends from Bio introduced him to about three weeks into the beginning of the year. Lydia eats the best tasting Pad Thai she’s ever had and actually giggles at Scott when she sees that he still can’t use chopsticks.

“Kira ordered pizza that night,” Scott offers as an excuse and Lydia laughs some more. It feels good.

Lydia stops laughing, however, when she lingers too long the word “Kira.” She hasn’t seen the girl’s actual face or heard her actual voice in four months.

 (She wants to, now. She wants to see and hear from Kira almost as much as she wants to never speak to anyone from Beacon Hills ever again.)

 Scott hasn’t mentioned her while they’ve studied together.

Scott hasn’t mentioned much of anyone from Beacon Hills, Lydia now realizes.

“How is Kira?” Lydia asks and yes, the question feels very weird in her mouth. Because how do you go from wanting to forget a person existed to suddenly wanting to relearn everything about them in the span of five minutes?

“Good,” Scott answers, but his voice cracks in the way that lets Lydia know _something_ is up. “She’s doing good. She’s at UCSC.”

“With Stiles,” Lydia finishes and tries not to wince when she says it.

“Yep,” Scott nods, but he won’t look up and that makes Lydia’s stomach twist.

“Scott, what’s going on?” Lydia asks, because she’s evasive and melancholy and heavy enough for the two of them. Scott is the light one as far as Lydia is concerned.

“Oh, um, it’s nothing. It’s just . . . well, we broke up,” Scott says eventually with a shrug.

Wait, what? Lydia blinks. When did . . . has she really missed that much?

“When?”

“Um, about two weeks before school started.”

“Why?” Lydia tilts her head, because she can tell when someone’s lying to her, too.

Offhandedly, she thinks that Scott eyes would probably flash right now if he were a few years younger and still a newbie Beta. But Scott has a control most humans should envy, so his voice is even and his eyes brown when he answers.

“We just didn’t feel right anymore.”

It doesn’t feel like a lie, but it also doesn’t feel true. But before Lydia can decide whether or not she should push it, Scott’s phone rings.

“Oh, sorry,” Scott says before answering. “Hello? Oh, hey! Hey, Liam, what’s up?”

Liam. Lydia smiles softly and rolls her eyes. She thinks briefly about luring Liam to her home and then having to host a party of 100 freshmen. It seems like forever ago.

Scott sounds very happy while talking to Liam. Scott laughs, his face bright and eyes crinkled. He’s pretty, Lydia thinks.

Wait, did she just think Scott was _pretty_?

Lydia laughs out loud, making Scott look at her in confusion.

Lydia shakes her head and pushes her hair out of her face. She leans back into her chair and settles for listening to Scott’s side of his conversation with Liam.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Really hard, sometimes. Yep, still hoping to go with Bio. Shut up!” Scott laughs again. “Oh, really? That’s cool, really cool, I’m really glad. Yeah, I’m with Lydia now, actually.”

Something grabs at Lydia’s throat when he says that. Who’s asking for her? What are they saying?

Scott lowers his phone and smiles at Lydia.

“Liam said Mason says hi.”

“Oh.” Mason, the slightly overly enthusiastic resident supernatural expert in training. If Lydia really thinks about it, she knows that she likes Mason, although she doesn’t think she’d ever told him that. Never had time to.

“Tell Mason _and_ Liam I say ‘Hi.’”

Scott looks surprised and Lydia would be annoyed by that if she didn’t understand why. Either way, he relays the message.

“Okay, yeah. Whatever! I’ll talk to you later. Yeah. Bye!”

Lydia watches Scott hang up the phone with more interest she’d like to admit to herself. “How often do you to talk to Liam?”

“Uh, about once a week, now. I used to talk to him about as much as I talk to my mom—”

“Wait, _really_? How often do you talk to your mom?”

“Um, almost every day, now. It used to be a few times a week, but she wants me to call her every day.”

“So, at one point, you were talking to Liam _every day?”_

“Yeah,” Scott answers like it should be obvious or something.

Lydia lets her head hang back and her body shakes with laughter. Scott doesn’t say anything, but she can feel him staring at her.

“So wait, how often do you call Stiles?” she asks to the ceiling.

“Oh, uh, I mostly text Stiles.”

“How _often_ , though?”

“Um, just a couple of times a day.”

Lydia bursts into laughter and yes, Scott is very baffled and he must think something is wrong with her.

“Lydia, what’s so funny?” he asks with a small smile.

Lydia is laughing hysterically now. She leans forward, hair falling back into her face, hand on her cheek. Lydia feels like she’s going to fall if she keeps laughing, but she can’t stop.

“You talk . . . to _everyone_ ,” Lydia sputters through her laughter, “and I can’t talk to _anyone!_ ”

“I don’t understand,” Scott is genuinely so perplexed right now and Lydia should be crying but instead she’s almost cackling.

“Like, you can call your mom _every day_. You can talk to Liam and probably Kira and Malia. You text Stiles _multiple_ times a day!”

Scott blushes, but nods for Lydia to continue. Lydia snickers again and drops her hand on top of Scott’s.

“You can talk to everyone, and I can’t even talk to you some days.” Her laughter finally subsides and she sighs, a bleary smile still on her face. “I just can’t, Scott.”

Scott frowns and places his hand on hers. It’s meant to be comforting, but Lydia doesn’t need comforting right now. She looks down at his hand and sighs again. She wonders when’s the last time Scott’s had to turn his hands into claws.

**

Scott holds Lydia’s hand the entire walk to her dorm. Lydia wants to ask him to stay, just to have someone else in her room for the night. But Meagan has restrictions on guy visitors and, besides, what would she look like, asking him that?

Still, Roble Hall is a bit too far from her Serra House, and Lydia feels antsy as she watches Scott walk back there.

For the first time, Lydia regrets opting in for a single room and out of a roommate.

**

Meagan comes to check on Lydia sometime after 11 p.m. that night.

“I hadn’t seen you see all day,” she says. Then she adds with a small smile, “Plus I saw the guy walking you to the house.”

Lydia blushes and nods. Yes, she’s okay and she might actually mean it tonight.

Lydia gets up early the next day, buys a chocolate donut from the Dunkin Donuts on campus and delivers it to a very surprised and grateful Meagan before heading to her morning class. It’s a nice gesture.

**

Lydia’s history lecture makes her squirm that Tuesday. It’s about women being locked away and poked and prodded and Lydia remembers being stuck with needles too many times.

Lydia rubs her wrist, makes herself focus on the professor and resists the urge to run out of the classroom.

**

Tuesday study date is quieter than usual. Scott sits too still while pouring over lab assignments.

Lydia watches him and waits for him to look up at her. When he doesn’t, Lydia sighs.

“What is it, Scott?”

Scott blinks slowly and finally looks up at her. His face falls and he looks worried.

“Dr. Deaton called me this morning. He said he’s moving out of Beacon Hills.”

Lydia has a memory of Deaton throwing himself between her and a monster and frowns deeply. The doctor protected them or at the very least made sure nothing actually killed them.

“Why? Where’s he going?” She asks, feeling rising anxiety. Beacon Hills . . . the portal to Hell . . . guarded by druid posing as a vet . . .

“He wouldn’t say exactly where,” Scott tells her, looking past her, “just that it was time for him to leave.”

Lydia blinks slowly and squirms to get rid of the feeling of _wrong, wrong, wrong_ that’s creeping up her throat.

“Well,” Lydia says in the best matter-of-fact voice she can manufacture, “I guess that means there’s nothing there for him anymore.”

Scott looks at her with a stare so intense that Lydia can’t help but to match it. Then he blinks rapidly and looks down at his lap with a perplexed look on his face, like he forgot something.

“I guess you’re right,” Scott mutters. “Nothing there anymore . . .” his voice trails off.

Lydia realizes the last part isn’t meant for her and opts to pretend to go back to reading.

**

That night, Lydia calls Scott.

In her sleep. 

She wakes herself when she hears someone mumbling, “I miss my friends,” and wondering who the hell is in her room.

“Lydia? Are you okay? Lydia? Lydia?”

Lydia didn’t even wake up quickly; she slowly becomes conscious and drops her phone when she realizes what’s going on.

“Lydia?? I’m coming over, okay?”

Lydia scrambles and picks the phone up.

“No, no! My RA isn’t going to let you! It’s past midnight, Scott,” Lydia sits up in bed, beyond embarrassed.

“Lydia, you called me _crying_ and slurring your words. I want to make sure you’re okay, alright?”

Lydia touches underneath her right eye and finds the area a little damp. So, she _was_ crying. Lydia’s stomach drops and she pulls her knees to her chest. When did she start crying? And when the _fuck_ did she call Scott?

“Okay,” Lydia mumbles, but she knows Scott’s probably already on his way and has been since he answered the phone.

Sure enough, less than a minute later: “Lydia, I’m outside of your house, okay?”

“Stay there, she won’t let you on the floor,” Lydia tells him, still a little dazed. “I’m coming down.”

A few minutes later, Lydia is wrapped in her robe, key and ID clutched tightly in her hand, trying to convince Scott that she’s fine.

“Are you sure? You can tell me if something’s wrong, Lydia,” Scott reassures, and he holds her arms tightly.

Lydia looks at Scott and sighs. “I don’t know _why_ that happened, but it won’t happen again.”

Scott looks at her with worry and lets go of her arms. His hands were hot and her arms are still warm where they were.

“Lydia, do you remember what you were saying to me?”

Oh, God. That could’ve been anything. Lydia shakes her head, suddenly anxious.

“You were saying that you miss your friends. You were crying and saying you needed me. And that you ‘want it all to stop.’  You sounded . . . spaced out, almost drugged and you wouldn’t respond when I called your name. So, I got very scared and worried and started trying to get you to listen to me. Eventually, you came around.”

Scott stepped closer while he was talking and is now very close to Lydia again. Lydia’s grateful, really, because she kind of feels like she’s going to fall forward at any second.

“Oh,” Lydia says. She’s tired and Scott’s face starts to blur a little bit. “I didn’t know that. But I’m fine. Just . . . tired, again.”

“Lydia, let me walk you back in,” Scott says softly, reaching for her hand.

“No, you can’t, they won’t let you in,” but Lydia’s not really sure if that’s even true. “I’m fine.” Lydia’s almost certain that’s not true.

But she goes back in. When she peeks out of her window, she’s surprised to realize that she can see where they’d been standing from there. Lydia watches as Scott’s figure disappears.

Lydia turns her phone off and sticks it underneath her bed before laying back down.

**

 

Lydia feels Scott studying her instead of the board the next morning in Bio. Lydia smirks; Scott’s not subtle at all. Never quite mastered the art. He and Stiles would have whisper conversations and blatantly stare at people in high school.

Lydia hears a guy and a girl whispering to each other about Lydia and Scott. Scott must hear them, too. Lydia rolls her eyes and starts to absentmindedly doodle something in her notes. She doesn’t realize that it’s a picture of Kira until she finishes drawing the sword in her hand.

Lydia puts her pen down, tries to tune out the feeling of Scott’s eyes on her back, and tries to pay attention to the lecture.

**

After Anthropology lecture is over, Lydia’s professor asks to speak with her for a few moments.

“Is there a problem?” Lydia asks with a cheeriness she’s been faking very well as of late.

“Not necessarily. You’re doing very well on your assignments and you’ve been participating in class, which is definitely helpful.”

“Then what’s wrong, professor?”

“Well, it’s just that . . . Lydia, you looked very . . . well, spaced out at one point today. Your lips were moving, but I didn’t hear you saying anything. I’m just trying to check on you. Are you getting enough rest?”

“Oh, well, I _did_ have a bit of a rough night and have been studying so much lately. I apologize if I caused a disturbance.”

“Oh, no! No disturbance, I just wanted to make sure. You can always come to me if you need anything. I can help you find many resources on campus.”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary, but thank you so much, professor!”

When Lydia finally leaves the room, she hears voices rumbling in the back of her mind.

 _All I have is voices in my head_.

Lydia runs to her room. People are watching her fall apart again and she knows it.

Lydia drops her bag onto the ground and curls up in her bed. Call Scott, a voice says. Call Scott. Lydia looks at her phone, which had fallen out of her bag and slid across the room. Call Scott, call Kira, call Malia, call Stiles, call Mason, call Mom, call Allison.

Call someone.

Lydia turns around and faces her wall. Eventually, the words “call, call,” fade away. Lydia closes her eyes and pretends she’d never heard voices and had never paid attention to the  two dorks who made the lacrosse team or the pretty brunette with the cute jacket.

**

Lydia has a nightmare that night. It’s Allison.

 _Allison_. . .

_Allison, standing in the skirt and jacket she wore that night. Bow in hand, jaw set, a cold look in her eyes._

_Lydia calls to her._

_Allison? ALLISON! Allison, **please**._

_Allison is far away and tall and Lydia is far away and small. Lydia Is curled up on herself, body shaking. Allison is a giant and Lydia is an ant trying to crawl up her legs._

_Allison is much closer now. Too close, actually; Lydia can count every eyelash individually. Allison is taller, still, and has to look down a little bit to meet Lydia’s eyes._

_Please say something, Allison. Please._

_Allison’s face is marble, her eyes flat at first. Then a light appears in them and she smiles. Allison’s gloved hand touches Lydia’s cheek and Lydia closes her eyes and leans into the touch and pretends yes, this is real, yes this is warm, yes this is me and this is Allison . . ._

_Allison’s hand falls and Lydia’s eyes open slowly. Allison opens her jacket and Lydia gasps, choking on air._

_Lydia sees the stab wound. She sees the blood. She finally sees what killed her best friend._

_Allison smiles again._

_I loved you, too, Lydia._

When Lydia finally wakes up, she wishes she could scream. Maybe Allison would hear her.

**

Thursday morning slams into her with a pounding headache. Stern dining hall is too busy and too full and anything Lydia eats will crawl back up her throat anyway.

Thursday afternoon reminds her she has to _explain herself_ , explain yourself, Lydia Martin. Explain why you got locked in a back cell in Hell, with a nurse grabbing your face and telling to you to drop the act. Explain the girls and boys and boys and girls running through your mind. Explain why you scream and can’t scream.

Thursday night shows her three calls from Scott, one from Malia, two from her mother. Lydia goes to bed without calling any of them back and screaming at herself.

Lydia pulls the covers up to her neck. Behind her eyelids, Allison stands there bloody and Scott cries. Lydia sees a red-haired, high-fashion beautiful girl with a gorgeous blonde boyfriend and reaches for her. She tries to tell the girl she’s going to die. The girl rolls her eyes, calls her a freak and prances away.

**

Lydia cries in her sleep. Her phone rings again.

**

Friday. 7:30 am. Bio starts at 10:15 am.

Lydia sits on her bed. She stares at the mirror. A nude, pale ghost of a red-haired monster stares back.

Lydia stands up, goes to her drawer and puts on a bra, panties and pulls a dress over her head. Then she sits back down. Lydia can’t remember why exactly she’s getting dressed right now, but she also wouldn’t want Meagan to see her naked because that would go in a file somewhere.

Friday . . . 7:45 am.

Lydia sits back down on her bed and pulls her hair into a messy bun on the top of her head. She wraps a hair holder around it and the ghost in her mirror watches her do it with dead green eyes.

Lydia gets back up and brushes her teeth and washes her face. She moisturizes and watches cream disappear into her skin. She goes back into the room and sits on her bed. The ghost watches her.

8 . . . 8:05 am.

Lydia should get coffee . . . and a donut . . . or no, a, um . . . wait . . . what the _fuck?_

What . . . _what?_

Lydia feels confused, likes clouds are hovering over her brain. The ghost looks at her like she’s an idiot.

Lydia blinks. When did she sit back down? The ghost in the mirrors shakes her head and tears slide down her cheek. Then she starts to laugh and Lydia thinks something’s wrong with her.

Lydia blinks again and she feels like she’s being stabbed in the chest when she remembers what her reflection used to look like.

Lydia stands up, the back of her legs pressed against her bed. Suddenly, she’s on her knees, her face almost entirely pressed up against the mirror.

Her clock says 8:35am.

Lydia searches her reflection’s eyes for . . . for _something_ , right? But there isn’t anything that Lydia can see. Her body shakes; she’s sobbing. Her head is starting to hurt and she’s sobbing. She can’t remember when she got dressed or why. Lydia wonders when her reflection started to _look like that!_

Lydia grabs the sides of her mirror and holds it tightly.

“Please,” she sobs, but nothing answers her. She keeps asking. “Please, please, please . . .”

Please, please, please, please, please . . .

8:38 am.

Begging doesn’t work. Begging never worked. Begging for your life, for your friend’s lives . . . never.

Lydia’s hands fall to her side.

And then one of them is slamming into her reflection’s face.

 Ow.

Fuck.

_Ow._

Lydia _sees_ the blood . . . she does . . . and suddenly, _yes_ it’s real and it’s hers. Lydia tilts her head and looks at the glass all over the floor. They all have her in them.

8:41 am.

Lydia feels the scream. It’s not for death, but for herself. It’s for the Lydia who gets dressed and forgets why, the Lydia who sometimes rubs her own arms because Allison isn’t there to rub them. The Lydia who remembers what needles feel like when they go into your wrist. It’s for the Lydia who wants Scott to stay all the time and then wants him to stop knowing that she’s crazy and scared and that she needs him. The Lydia who wishes her friends had someone better.

Lydia screams because she cannot scream herself into hoarseness anymore.

8:45 am. Scott is at her door because he’s her Alpha and her friend and would hear her scream even if she were at the bottom of the ocean. Meagan is opening Lydia’s door because the resident she worries so much about finally broke in half this morning.

**

The bandages are too tight on Lydia’s right hand.

**

Scott sits with her outside of the counseling center. Lydia has to go every Tuesday afternoon for the next three weeks, until finals are over.

Lydia wanted to tell them they’ve ruined her study date, but she thought it wouldn’t have mattered to them.

“We should be studying, right now,” Lydia says to the floor. “Our final is next week.”

Scott wraps his right hand around Lydia’s left one. He’s warm.

“You’re exempt from that, remember? You’re exempt from all of them,” Scott reminds her.

Lydia rolls her eyes and doesn’t try to stop the tears.

“I didn’t want to be,” she whispers.

“I know.”

Lydia looks over at Scott, tears still flowing freely down her face. Scott squeezes her hand gently.

“Look at it this way—you were already going to be exempt from Anthropology, History _and_ our Bio exam because you were still acing all those classes,” Scott says. “So, your THINK paper is the only _real_ exemption. Your professors understand.”

“But I don’t want them to have to _understand_ something, Scott!” Lydia cries. She’s instantly sorry, but Scott doesn’t even seem to mind. He just nods again.

Lydia sighs and looks at the counseling office doors. She feels herself start to shake and Scott puts his arm around her shoulders.

“What do I tell them, Scott?” Lydia questions quietly, feeling a little frantic. “ _How_ do I explain this? ‘Oh, I’m crazy because supernatural maniacs have been trying to fucking murder me and my friends since we were 15?’ Why the hell would they believe that?”

“You don’t to have to say any of that,” Scott reassures her with earnest eyes.

“Scott,” her voice is too hard, but Scott doesn’t seem to mind. He just squeezes her and falls quiet.

They sit there in silence for two minutes before Scott speaks again.

“Tell her what you haven’t told yourself,” he says.

Lydia stares at Scott, chest tight, head swimming just a little bit. She lays her head on Scott’s shoulder and doesn’t feel embarrassed when he kisses her forehead.

“Scott?” Lydia whispers, like they’re getting ready to go to sleep.

“Yeah?”

“How did this happen?”

“I don’t know,” his voice is quiet and it shakes. “I don’t know. But I’m sorry, Lydia. I’m so sorry.”

**

Her therapist is kind and listens to Lydia when she tells her that she hasn’t felt safe in years. At the end of the session, she agrees to reschedule the sessions to every Thursday afternoon when the winter quarter starts.

**

Lydia’s mom cries when Lydia comes home for winter break. She hugs Lydia tightly and Lydia pretends like she’ll never let her go.

**

Scott drops by on Christmas Eve and leaves Lydia a present and instructions to not open it until Christmas day. Lydia rolls her eyes and smirks, but places the present carefully under the tree when he leaves.

Her mother smiles like she knows something and Lydia doesn’t mind.

**

Right before Lydia gets ready to open Scott’s present late on Christmas Day, Malia stops by.

Lydia kind of freezes when she sees her. Malia’s hair is long again. She has a blue, wool-knit skull cap, red cheeks and a puffy blue scarf wrapped around her neck. Malia’s beautiful as Lydia remembers.

Malia plops down the floor next to Lydia. Lydia starts to explain herself.

“Nope, doesn’t matter,” Malia interrupts, putting a hand up.

“It doesn’t?”

“Nope,” Malia answers seriously. “I don’t care why. I’m just glad you’re alive and in one piece.”

“Really?” Lydia raises an eyebrow.

“Lydia, please, you’re probably more upset at yourself than anyone is,” Malia says with snort.

Lydia blinks slowly and shakes her head. A piece of hair falls out of her bun and Malia moves it out of Lydia’s face.

“Anyway,” Malia continues casually, “I hadn’t seen you since July and Scott told me about what went down. I just want to make sure you’re okay. Or at least, you know, not terrible or anything.”

Lydia laughs a little, her face feeling warm. Malia smiles hopefully and scoots closer. Malia’s never quite learned about personal space, Lydia thinks.

“I think I’m getting there,” Lydia answers honestly. “It’s a little different now.”

“What’s different?” Malia tilts her head, like she’s examining Lydia. She’s scenting her, Lydia thinks, to make sure Lydia won’t lie to her.

Malia doesn’t have to worry about that, though.

“I can’t push it aside, anymore,” Lydia answers with a shrug. She looks Malia in her eye and takes a deep breath. “I mean, in high school, something else was always coming. Whatever was going on in my head was pushed aside to get ready for the next traumatic monster.

“But now . . . I was away and trying my hardest to forget everything and everyone,” Lydia glances down, Malia nods like she understands. “And . . . well, I just can’t get anyway from it anymore. I have nightmares. I sometimes spend whole hours trying to remember what I did the day before.”

“I get that,” Malia says, her face scrunched up. “Plus, it’s not like you had any real help before. Eichen House isn’t the best for helping people.” She says it with a snarl.

“No kidding.”

“Well, either way,” Malia continues, putting her hand on Lydia’s knee. “You’re gonna get some help from an actual therapist and not an undercover hunter or anything, so I’m hopeful for you.”

Lydia laughs again and nods. “I’m hopeful for me, too.”

Malia stands up to leave and pulls Lydia off of the floor with her. Right before she walks out of Lydia’s front door, though, she abruptly whips around to face her.

“By the way,” Malia says, “I’m not mad at you for not calling or answering my calls, _but_ I will be calling you when school starts back. And if you don’t answer, I’ll call Scott until he puts you on the phone. Got it?”

Lydia bites her lip, remembers the times Malia’s number has flashed across her phone screen, and nods.

“Got it.”

**

Scott’s bought Lydia an owl necklace, with emerald eyes. It was wrapped very neatly, in bright red paper.

Lydia’s mom raises both eyebrows when Lydia puts it on.

 

 

 


	2. Hide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott can't hide anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I so need a beta reader. . .

 

Lydia’s mom chatters a lot on the drive back to Stanford.

You promise to call me every day, right? You don’t _have_ to tell me about how therapy goes, but if you want to you always can. Make sure you’re getting some down time, some rest, alright?

Lydia doesn’t mind; she’s actually glad. It’s nice to remember of how much her mother cares about her.

Yes, I’ll try to call every day. I’ll let you know about my sessions. I’ll make sure to some rest.

Lydia’s mother reaches out and rubs Lydia’s hair. Lydia closes her eyes and sighs.

When she opens her eyes, she glances in the rearview mirror and sees Melissa and Scott driving behind them. She smiles softly and sinks into her seat.

**

Scott catches his mom watching him out of the corner of her eye again and grins broadly at her. Melissa quickly looks back at the road with a smile.

She keeps telling Scot how proud she is of him. Of what’s he’s done for Lydia.

Scott nods and smiles, but he wishes she would stop. The praise has been making him uncomfortable, really.

You really helped her, Scott.

I’m supposed to help her, Mom. She’s my friend. I care about her.

But you’re always going out of your way to really help someone, especially your friends. It’s amazing.

It’s not a big deal, Mom, I promise.

Then Melissa just smiles at him and shake her head a little bit.

Scott wants her to stop that, too. Because it’s not a big deal. Scott doesn’t think he’s done that much for anyone, not really. He’s done what he’s supposed to. That’s all. Besides, he owes Lydia a lot more.

_How did this happen, Scott?_

_I don’t know_. But that was kind of a lie, because Scott _does_ know. All this happened because he let Stiles convince him to go into the woods one night.

_I’m so sorry_. That much was true.

Scott closes his eyes and sighs. Melissa glances over at him in worry this time.

“Are you feeling alright?” Melissa immediately asks.

“Huh? Yeah, Mom, I’m fine, I promise,” Scott answers, smiling at her.

“You sure? Because I know things got a bit overwhelming this past quarter,” Melissa presses. “I don’t want you being stressed out.”

“I’m _fine_ , Mom,” Scott says. He shifts around in his seat and Melissa looks at him with suspicion.

“Scott—”

“I’m not the one who had a rough semester, okay?” Scott says quietly, staring at the car straight ahead of them. He can see Lydia’s hair from where he’s sitting.

Melissa grips her steering wheel tighter and tries to focus on the road and not Natalie and Lydia. After driving for a while, Melissa’s face scrunches up.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m just wondering . . . Scott, how do you _really_ feel about what happened with Lydia?” Melissa questions.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I know you were worried about her and wanted to help, but what else is going on in that head of yours?”

“Nothing,” Scott answers, but he answers too quickly for his mom to believe him.

He’s lying, anyway. Because whenever he thinks too hard about what happened to Lydia, he hears her screaming. Her screams echo through his head, waking him up at 2:00 am when he thinks too hard about what’s happened to Lydia . . . what he did . . .

“Scott?” Melissa asks and Scott realizes he’s spaced out.

“Yeah, Mom?”

“I was just saying that I don’t want you being too hard on yourself for anything, okay? I know how you get,” Melissa says pointedly, shooting Scott a look. “I just want you _both_ to be happy and in one piece.”

“Well, I promise to try my hardest to be happy _and_ in one piece,” Scott says and Melissa laughs and doesn’t notice the way Scott’s face falls when he turns to look out of the window.

He thinks it’s ridiculous that he wants to call Lydia even when she’s right in front of him.

**

Lydia takes a deep breath before going back into her dorm. Meagan’s waiting for her and immediately wraps her arm around Lydia’s shoulder and walks her up to her room. Scott would probably be here, too, but Lydia had told him she would be okay.

She thinks she’ll be okay.

Meagan is warm and she squeezes Lydia like she’s her sister or something. Meagan tells her that she can talk to her about anything, including therapy, if she’s comfortable. Lydia leans her head on Meagan’s shoulder and smiles warmly.

Lydia’s room has been painstakingly cleaned. Pristine. The mirror has been replaced and cleaned, as well. Lydia puts her fingers to spot where she’d hit it. Completely smooth, with only her reflection there. Like nothing ever happened.

**

Stiles texts Scott as soon as Scott is in his dorm room.

Scott sometimes wonders if Stiles accidentally picked up a psychic ability or something, because he always seems to know when Scott is in his room. No matter what time of the day it is, Stiles always manages to text when Scott had a break between classes or just after dinner. It’s weird, actually.

Scott rolls his eyes at himself; it’s nothing he should be complaining about. Most people in the world would probably _love_ to have a best friend who knew the perfect time to text.

Although, Scott’s also pretty sure most people in the world don’t have a best friend who send increasingly stressful texts about potential supernatural creatures running around northern California, creatures that could make their way to Scott and Lydia. That’s more than likely what’s wearing Scott down.

Scott loves himself and Stiles enough to tell him to cool it a little bit. And apparently, Stiles loves Scott enough to be too worried to cool it. Scott would simply not answer if it were anyone other than Stiles.

Stiles and Scott text about winter quarter and class and Malia and Liam and how Mason is “growing up too fast” with his emissary training and you know my dad is _already_ asking if you’re coming over for spring break since you didn’t come over for Christmas so are you?

Years of conversations like this have trained Scott in the fine art of not getting lost when Stiles is talking to him. But now Scott wants to get lost in the never-ending text about simple things. Scott wants to lose his train of thought and be content with reading and replying to Stiles’ question about whether or not he thinks the rumor about Finstock finally getting canned is true.

It’s easy.

Scott texts while getting ready for the start of the winter quarter. He has new books to buy, new buildings and classrooms to find. He has to make sure he finishes his FAFSA and applies for university scholarships in the next couple of weeks. And he responds to Stiles’ texts about Liam sassing Stiles over the phone and how Malia ignored his call last night.

Stiles doesn’t ask about Lydia, which is fine. Scott doesn’t like the way Stiles sometimes talks about mental illness and he really wouldn’t want to curse him out through text.

Eventually, Scott finally sits down and reads over his schedule, focusing on the words on the page and not on how hard filling time is.

**

Winter Quarter:

  *          Spanish (Tuesday, Thursday mornings)
  *          Writing and Rhetoric 1: The Rhetoric of Futility (Wednesday afternoons)
  *          BIO 25Q: The Molecular Basis of Genetic Disease (MWF mornings, lab on W evenings)
  *          PSYCH 16N: Amines and Affect (Friday afternoons)
  *          HUMBIO 143: Adolescent Sexuality (Thursday afternoons)



**

Scott’s leg is bouncing up and down, and he keeps looking over at the door, waiting for Lydia to walk through. Leticia and Jason, who were both in Scott and Lydia’s bio class last quarter, whisper about them, coming up with theories about when he and Lydia became “official.”

Scott cringes and instantly stops bouncing. Lydia has too much to worry about for Scott to even try to ask her to be in a relationship with him. Lydia should focus on getting better, not on Scott’s feelings for her. Besides, Scott thinks bitterly, it’s not like being in a relationship with Scott has been the safest for anyone. Lydia, Kira, Stiles. Allison.

Lydia would give him one of her looks and tell him it’s not his fault, like everyone else has. Scott’s never gotten around to fully believing that, though.

Lydia comes in and sits directly in front of Scott again. Her hair’s pulled up on top of her head and she smells like vanilla. Lydia looks back at Scott and grins, her cheek dimpling.

Scott’s stomach drops and he knows he’s going to be in trouble this quarter.

**

Tuesday study dates pick right back up, like they were never stopped at all.

**

“So, Lydia?”

“Yeah?”

“What other classes do you have?”

“Are you gonna try to set up some study groups for me, Scott?”

“Not unless you want me to. I mean, if you want, I’m sure I could find someone I know with the same subjects or something.”

“You probably could. You seem to have gotten to know almost everyone on campus. Congratulations, you’re officially the most popular college freshmen ever.”

“I don’t think so. So, yeah, what’s your schedule like?”

“Let’s see . . . um, I’ve got bio with you. Then I have French on Tuesday and Thursday mornings and Feminist, Gender and Sexuality studies on Friday afternoon.”

“Oooo, which class?”

“It’s called ‘Women and Medicine in US History: Women as Patients, Healers and Doctors.’”

“You pick the most appropriate classes.”

“It’s a gift and a curse. Oh! And I have that Writing and Rhetoric course on Monday afternoons. ‘The Rhetoric of Self-Transformation.”

“Again, extremely appropriate. But yeah, I’m getting that one out of the way, too.”

“Which section?”

“‘The Art of Futility.’ On Wednesday afternoons.”

“That’s not very Scott-like.”

“I think it is. Plus, I have Spanish on Tuesday and Thursday mornings, Psych on Friday afternoons, and Human Biology on Thursday afternoons.”

“Hmmm, which sections for Psych and Human Bio?”

“Uh, ‘Amines and Affect’ for Psych and ‘Adolescent Sexuality’ for Human Bio . . . what?”

“. . . Nothing, Scott.”

**

Later that Tuesday night, Malia calls Lydia while Lydia is lying on Scott’s bed.

Lydia had never been inside of Scott’s room or even to Roble Hall. It was surprisingly much more difficult to convince Scott to let her see it, but sure enough, he caved and now Lydia’s sprawled out on Scott’s bed, trying to figure out how to reach her phone without moving too much.

She ignores Scott’s laughing at her in favor of wrapping the strap of her saddle bag around her right foot and dragging the bag closer to her.

“Hello?” Lydia asks when she’s finally answered the phone. Scott laughs again and Lydia makes a face at him and flops on her side, turning her back to Scott. She pulls her knees to her chest and almost forgets she’s not in her own bed.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Malia asks, sounding like she’s moving around while talking.

“Nothing much, just in Scott’s room.”

“Scott’s room?” Malia sounds like she’s raised an eyebrow at that and Lydia rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, Scott’s room. The room where Scott lives? That place.”

“You’ve never mentioned going to Scott’s room before. Was I interrupting something??”

“No!” Then Lydia blushes and turns her head to actually _look_ at Scott (it only seems appropriate, what with her and Malia talking about him like he’s not even there.) Lydia only blushes harder when she sees the questioning look on Scott’s face.

If Scott were any less of a person, Lydia knows he’d be using his hearing to figure out what they’re talking about. Hell, _Lydia_ would use the hearing if she were Scott.

“I mean, nothing’s going on,” Lydia says with a much more even voice. “What are _you_ doing, Malia? I hear you moving around.”

“I’m _just_ getting in from dinner with my dad and was trying to get my shit together for class tomorrow. But then I realized I lost something so now I’m searching. Honestly, I don’t think I care about it anymore.”

Lydia snorts and sighs contentedly. “Just relax and you’ll find it. How’s your dad liking Sacramento?”

“Much better than Beacon Hills, actually. I thought he’d hate it, because it’s more expensive, but he loves it here. He really likes just being close to me, though, so that’s probably mostly it.”

Lydia tries to ignore the ache in her heart when she thinks about the fact Malia’s dad immediately packed up and moved to Sacramento when Malia got accepted to California State University. Lydia’s painfully jealous.

“Plus, you know, it’s not a daily reminder of the fact he has a dead family,” Malia adds bluntly.

“Way to darken the mood, Malia. That’s a talent.”

“Whatever. Sooo, back to this whole you and Scott thing.”

“How about no?”

“How about _yes_? Come on, it’s not that hard, really. You like him. He _really_ likes you. You see him all the time now and you’re literally curled up on his bed as we speak.”

“How’d you know that?” Lydia immediately uncurls and sits up straight. Scott looks over in alarm, staring intently at her.

“I’ve seen the way you lie down when you’re actually comfortable, Lydia.”

“ _Anyway_ , have your classes started yet?”

“Stop trying to change the subject.”

“There is no subject to be changed from, Malia.”

“Fine, whatever. But I’m just saying you guys are being ridiculous. Just do the thing and use a condom.”

“Okay, _bye_ Malia, talk to you later!”

Malia laughs and hangs up. Lydia looks over at Scott, who is watching her curiously.

Lydia feigns innocence and shrugs. “Malia,” she says dismissively. Lydia lays back on Scott’s bed and hopes Scott can’t tell how hard she’s blushing.

He probably can, though.

**

 Scott has a hard time falling asleep because his entire room smells like Lydia.

Every time he tries to close his eyes, he sees her face and smells her scent and feels even hotter than usual. It doesn’t help that when he’d come in from walking Lydia back to Serra, his RA, Corey, had been waiting for him.

“Is my dear friend Scott McCall in _love_?” Corey had teased.

And Scott had laughed and said no, Lydia’s his friend, they’ve been friends since high school.

“Then what a perfect time to embark on this new journey together, right?” Corey had asked. Corey usually speaks in inspirational quotes and poems, so Scott had just laughed again and shook his head.

Too bad Scott couldn’t laugh it off now, in the middle of the night.

Scott twists and turns from midnight to 1 am. Then he gets up and paces around for twenty minutes. Then he sits down on the floor and taps his fingers. He considers texting Stiles, but Stiles is jumpy enough and would immediately think a hoard of berserkers were coming to get Scott or something. He really wants to text Lydia.

Scott sprawls out on his floor, throwing his arms over his eyes. Behind his eyes, Lydia smirks at him and laughs. It’s nice.

When he finally falls asleep an hour later though, a Doctor holds a rusty knife over her and she begs for help. Scott wolves out and screams and claws but nothing happens.

Also, he’s still lying on his floor.

**

“Scott, did you sleep on your floor last night?” Corey immediately asks when Scott emerges from his room.

“Dude, _how_ did you know that?”

“Call it a hunch. Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“I’m fine. Just had a rough night,” Scott says. Corey looks at him skeptically, raising an eyebrow.

“You sure?”

“Positive, Corey.”

Okay. Now get to bio! You’re about to be late and you’re gonna owe me if you don’t make an A!” Corey smiles, pats his shoulder, and walks down their hall.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, three boxes of chocolate glazed from Dunkin!” Scott calls to his back.

Corey whips around, locs flying everywhere and grins broadly.

“Yep!” he says, dark brown skin glowing.

Scott glances down at his watch and realizes that Corey’s right; he’s going to be late for bio in about ten minutes.

Damn it. Lydia’s gonna give him a _look_.

**

When Scott rushes into bio five minutes late, Lydia turns around, gives him a long _look_ and turns back around, swinging her ponytail in his face.

**

Scott and Jason screw up their lab assignment. Lydia and her lab partner Macy watch curiously from the other side of them.

“You guys need help?” Macy offers with a smile.

“Yes,” Scott answers emphatically and watches Lydia as she leans over to scribble some notes on his paper.

He wants to say something, but he suddenly remembers Lydia holding a crystal laced with Kanima poison and he can’t stop watching her.

Jason nudges Scott playfully, startling him a little bit. Macy suppresses a laugh and Lydia looks up.

“What’s wrong?” Lydia asks with confusion.

“Nothing! Nothing’s wrong! Thanks for the help,” Scott answers, but again, he answers too quickly for _anyone_ to believe him.

Macy and Jason snicker and Lydia flares her nostrils at Scott.

**

Scott’s Human Bio professor goes off on a tangent about bi erasure and the over-simplication of coming out and how it negatively affects bisexual people.

And it’s a very good tangent and Scott agrees 100%, but he still squirms around his seat almost the entire time. He keeps thinking of . . . of _Theo_.

_You’re sorry? That’s **it,** Scott?_

_I’m sorry, Kira. I don’t know what is to say._

_You can tell me **why** this is happening, maybe?_

_I . . . Kira---_

_You could also tell me this has **nothing** to do with Theo . . . Scott? Scott?? Why couldn’t you just be **honest**_ _with me? We could’ve worked through that---Scott?_

**_Scott_ ** _??_

Scott blinks out of the memory, there’s only a minute of class left.

**

_Peter Hale is looking at her, again_.

_His eyes narrow and he smirks. Lydia doesn’t. Lydia sets her jaw and takes three steps back._

_Lydia . . . his voice is a knife. Her ears are bleeding but she doesn’t flinch._

**_Lydia_ ** _!!_

_She stares him down. Her mouth fills with blood and her side rips open, but she stares him down._

_Oh, dear little Lydia . . ._

_And he’s in front of her, eyes electric blue, mouth full of razors._

_Lydia gasps and blood trickles out. Peter laughs and digs his claws into her shoulders._

_He opens his mouth, to yell, to scream, to say her name . . ._

_To rip her apart._

_But he can’t._

_Lydia’s hands find his throat. Peter tears his claws from her shoulders but he cannot slash them across her face. They hang at his side, useless, as Lydia presses further. Peter’s eyes widen with fear._

_Lydia’s eyes narrow and she smirks. She takes a deep breath._

_And she screams._

**

Lydia wakes up on the floor, wrapped up in her bedsheets, with a bruise on her cheek. She sits up with a grunt and touches her face. Lydia looks at her bed sourly, cursing it for allowing her to fall out _again_.

Lydia might have to invest in bed rails.

**

Scott flies into a panic on Friday morning when Lydia walks up to him twenty minutes before the start of bio. Which is when he sees Lydia’s _bruised face_.

(Yeah, so Lydia didn’t even bother with makeup when she was getting ready for class, today.)

“It’s nothing! I fell out of bed. Again,” Lydia reassures, too concerned about the look on Scott’s face to be embarrassed.

“What made you fall out of bed, though?” Scott asks hurriedly, suddenly anxious.

“I had a Peter nightmare,” Lydia answers with a shrug, but that must be the wrong answer because Scott looks like he’s having a stroke.

“Scott, you alright, there?”

“Why didn’t you call me? I would’ve come over, you know!”

“Yes, I know.” Of course Lydia knows. The day before their mothers drove them back to campus, they made an official “Fuck the Housing Rules” pact that stated Scott would come over whenever Lydia needed him, especially late at night, after a nightmare or something equally traumatizing.

“So why didn’t you call?” Scott asks nervously, watching Lydia with sad eyes.

Lydia’s stomach tightens and blinks at Scott. “I—I didn’t really need to. It was fine, Scott, really.”

Scott nods, but his stomach falls to the floor. “Okay. Just, you know can, right?”

“Of course.”

When they go into their bio class, Lydia takes the seat behind Scott instead of in front of him. People in the class room murmur, and Scott turns around and looks at her with worry. Lydia simply points to the front of the classroom and raises an eyebrow at Scott.

Lydia frowns at the back of Scott’s head and makes a note to herself: tell Denise next Thursday.

**

Lydia’s regaining her ability to multitask. She’s able to digest her Feminist and Gender Studies professor’s lecture on the emergence of mid-wives while also contemplating the fact that Scott seems even more eager to throw himself into fire for her lately.

Lydia writes down notes from the lecture and tries to figure out what Scott must be trying to hide from her. Or himself, she thinks with a grimace.

**

Stiles ruins his perfect-timing texting streak by texting during Amines and Affect. Scott’s phone vibrates while his professor talks about serotonin inhibitors.

It’s a text about some guy Stiles thinks transforms into some sort of beast at night. Scott turns his phone off and tries to ignore the slight terror building at the base of his spine. He rubs the back of his neck and tries not to panic in class.

He doesn’t answer Stiles’ texts for the rest of the day.

**

_Scott can’t move. Scott can barely breathe. His heart is pounding and he feels like he’s choking whenever he tries to scream. His eyes burn they **burn** so bad they must be red and his fingers are sore and there’s blood on them._

_Scott bucks against the nothing and tries to turn his head again. He turns his head to the left of him and suddenly he can’t move it again. He feels a hand holding it still, but he knows without looking there’s nothing there._

_Scott’s voice finally comes back. Get off! Get off! He groans and chokes and growls and chokes and his chest is going to explode and no one will know he’s dead they’ll think he’s abandoned them again they’ll think he’s left they’ll think he’s failed._

_Scott blinks and suddenly the nothing disappears and he’s free. But he’s exhausted and can only turn his head to look above him. He searches the darkness for something, anything, someone, anyone._

_Scott?_

_Th—Theo?_

_Theo floats over Scott and he smiles. Scott reaches for him._

_Theo laughs. You’re an **Alpha** , Scott McCall. You can’t get yourself out of here? No wonder your pack fell apart._

_Scott reaches again, but it’s to **get Theo** , to dig his claws into him. His eyes glow red, but Theo’s amused._

_Theo grins, leans down and kisses Scott. Then he tenderly moves Scott’s hair away from his face and raises a clawed hand._

_Goodnight, Scott._

Scott’s eyes flow open, bright red. His claws dig into his comforter and he can’t breathe. His body is tense, his heart pounding and Corey might find Scott dead of a heart attack tomorrow morning.

When Scott’s finally able to calm down, he remembers he forgot to call his mom today.

**

Corey plops down next to Scott in the common area Saturday morning and studies him closely.

“Rough night, McCall?” Corey asks as if he already knows the answer.

Scott shrugs and avoids Corey’s eyes for a moment. “Nightmare. They happen.”

“Anything you want—or maybe need—to talk about?” Corey continues.

“Nope, not really. Just a weird dream.”

Corey searches Scott’s face and bites his lip.

“You sure?”

Scott stares at his RA for a moment, distracted by the look in Corey’s eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure,” he says eventually.

“Hmmm. Okay,” Corey says. Then he gives Scott the once-over, gets up and goes over to another group of guys.

Scott thinks there’s something up with Corey. He wishes he had the energy to text Stiles about it.

**

Lydia wants to go for a walk, but it’s still freezing outside. She settles for sitting in the common area, reading over her French notes.

Around noon, she sees Meagan struggling with the winter decorations for the floor and asks if she can help. Meagan smiles broadly and within minutes she and Lydia are hanging up snowflakes and talking about those twin girls who live in Larkin. One of them is always frowning and sneering at people and the other one is never not smiling.

Lydia _almost_ asks Meagan if she happened to have a twin too, but decides against it.

By 5 pm, Lydia and Meagan have hung up all the snowflakes, gotten an early dinner and smuggled a bunch of desert foods and are sitting in the floor of her room, cutting out snowmen to hang on doors.

Malia calls while Lydia is fattening up her snowman.

“Hey, what’s up?” Lydia asks casually.

“Not the damn temperature, that’s for sure. I hate the cold _so much_ ,” Malia whines and Lydia snorts and tries to make her snowman perfectly round.

“Lydia, why does it sound like you’re cutting paper?”

“Because I am. I’m making snowmen!”

“Snowmen?”

“Yes, they’re for my floor. I’m making them with my RA,” Lydia responds with dignity.

“Braeden’s twin??”

“Yes, her.”

“Wait, so she’s _actually_ Braeden’s twin then?? Can she kill shit, too??”

“No, I don’t think she’s an actual twin, Malia. But I do think she can kill stuff,” Lydia adds in a lowered voice. Luckily, Meagan is searching for something underneath her bed and hasn’t heard the last few things Lydia’s sad.

“That’d be so scary if Braeden had a twin who could kill stuff, too. But also kinda hot. Sometimes fear kinda does it for me.”

“I’m so sad that I agree with you on that.”

“About finding a girl hot?”

“No, about the fear thing.” The finding-girls-hot thing isn’t something that’s ever overly concerned Lydia.  Lydia’s always figured it was the least of her worries.

“Have you ever found me hot, Lydia?” Malia asks abruptly.

“You wish.”

“Actually, yeah, I kind of do. I need to know if other girls would find me hot,” Malia answers.

“Really? Why? Are you looking for someone new?” Lydia asks mischievously.

“Yeah, I guess. But I’m not like _looking_ looking because I already have someone in mind.”

“Anyone I know?” Lydia asks, turning her head to make sure her snowman is appropriately chubby.

“Yeah, Kira. Do you think Scott would be weird about that? Me liking Kira, I mean.”

Lydia remembers Allison and Isaac and shivers.

“Well, considering that he’s had that happen before, I don’t think so,” Lydia answers distantly. She blinks a few times and picks up another snowman template. “But, I do think he and Kira had a bad break up, so I’m not entirely sure.”

“True,” Malia says. “Oh, speaking of Scott, he’s still alive and stuff, right?”

“Yeah? Why do you ask??” Lydia’s caught off guard and freezes with a frown on her face. Meagan lifts her head from underneath her bed and watches Lydia with concern.

“Because Stiles called me in a panic this morning and said Scott hadn’t answered any of his text and that it wasn’t like him. Stiles thinks something’s got Scott or something like that.”

“Stiles could’ve called me and asked about Scott,” Lydia mutters.

“Yeah, I said that, but he started freaking out. He’s really weird about you, for some reason.”

That makes sense. Lydia’s still really weird about him, too. Lydia shudders and shakes her head. She can feel Meagan watching her and knows she’s going to have to do a temp check with her when she’s done talking to Malia.

“Anyway, yeah, I’m pretty sure Scott’s alive. I haven’t talked with him today, though.”

“Really? Isn’t that weird? Aren’t you guys always in each other’s space?”

“ _No_ , we’re not. I have days where I don’t see him, you know!” Lydia says, inexplicably defensive.

Lydia looks over to see Meagan giving her an unconvinced look. Lydia tries to not pout.

“Oh please, you guys probably dream about each other at this point,” Malia says and Lydia’s face falls. “Anyway, can you make sure to tell Scott to at least respond to Stiles soon? Stiles sounded like he was having a conniption fit when he called me.”

“Okay, I will. Talk to you later.”

“Bye!”

Lydia hangs up and peers over at Meagan.

“What’s up with your boyfriend?” Meagan inquires with a sly smile.

“Well, I don’t have a boyfriend, so nothing,” Lydia responds smartly.

Meagan rolls her eyes and nudges Lydia. “But seriously, is everything alright? You sounded a little worried for a second there.”

Lydia thinks for a moment and shrugs. “My friends and I . . . we have . . . complicated lives.”

Meagan raises both eyebrows and sighs heavily, cutting out another snowman. “I know what that feels like.”

Lydia watches Meagan cut and wonders if Malia might be onto something about the whole “Meagan-Braeden Twin Theory” after all.

**

Lydia texts Scott just as she’s getting into bed.

To: Scott McCall

Hey, make sure you let Stiles know you’re alive. Malia said he was losing it over you, today.

Lydia’s phone buzzes a few minutes later.

From: Scott McCall

Don’t wanna.

Lydia sits straight up and is about to hurriedly text him back when her phone vibrates again.

From: Scott McCall

I mean, I will. I just wasn’t feeling well today.

To: Scott McCall

Are you okay?? You don’t sound like yourself.

Lydia watches her phone intently until it vibrates again.

From: Scott McCall

Yeah, just a little tired today. I’m fine.

Lydia wants to text back that she can tell he’s lying to her, that the “Fuck the Housing Rules” pact goes both ways. Instead, she tells him okay and plugs her phone up.

Lydia dreams of kissing Scott against a desk, his hands on her hips, her fingers in his too long hair. She wakes up groggily, remembering that he didn’t know what he was doing and really she hadn’t either. Lydia falls asleep wondering what his lips feel like now.

**

Scott wakes up to a text from Stiles at 8 am on a Sunday morning.

From: Stiles

Scott, I swear to god if you don’t answer this I’m driving to Stanford!!!!!!!

Scott blinks and reaches for his phone slowly.

To: Stiles

I’m fine, I promise. I’ve just been tired lately.

Stiles responds almost instantly.

From: Stiles

Tired like you’ve been studying a lot tired or tired like you’ve got some type of supernatural murder illness tired?????????

To: Stiles

Definitely the first one. It’s fine, Stiles, relax.

From: Stiles

You sure, Scotty?? Because you didn’t call your mom either.

From: Stiles

Like if something’s wrong we can figure it out.

From: Stiles

I still have copies of the bestiary and I can definitely drive to Stanford. I wasn’t kidding about that.

To: Stiles

I’m fine, I swear!! No road trips necessary.

From: Stiles

Okay. But don’t do that again, man.

To: Stiles

Okay. Go back to sleep, Stiles, it’s like 8:30 in the morning and you don’t go to church.

Scott kind of feels bad for not waiting for Stiles’ response before falling back asleep.

**

Scott sleeps through all of Sunday. When he wakes up, it’s 8:30 pm and Liam, his mother and Lydia have all called him.

Scott calls his mom and Liam tells them both that he’s very sorry, that he’s had his phone off all day and didn’t realize it. Scott doesn’t call Lydia because she’d automatically know he was lying.

Scott avoids looking in the mirror as he washes up and changes into pajamas.

**

_Theo’s body is warm and Scott welcomes the extra weight on him. He feels grounded underneath Theo._

_Theo’s lips are surprisingly soft and he rubs circles into Scott’s sides. Scott feels calm and warm and hungry. Theo deepens the kiss and Scott moans into his mouth._

_Then he jerks away, blushing bright red._

_I’m with someone, he says, like he’s suddenly remember that fact himself._

_Theo smirks at Scott and runs his hand up his shirt. Slowly, Theo’s hand finds its way past Scott’s waistband._

_Don’t worry too much about that._

**

Scott wakes up two hours earlier than he’d planned. He sits on his bed, eyes red, wanting to go back, go back. Just . . . go back.

**

Lydia sits behind Scott again, watching him curiously twenty minutes before bio starts. She puts her hand firmly on Scott’s shoulder and squeezes.

Scott turns around and gives her a tired smile.

“Up all night,” he mouths.

Lydia nods and slowly lowers her hand. Liar, she thinks.

**

Lydia’s “Writing and Rhetoric” professor wants the class to craft an argument either for or against active self-transformation using personal and/or scholarly sources.

Lydia doodles pictures of Scott and Malia’s eyes in the corner of her paper. She can think of at least three sources in her affirmative argument right now.

**

Scott spends much of Tuesday study date daydreaming. Lydia reads off a formula to him, realizes he’s not listening, and stares at him until he blinks and looks over at her.

“I’m sorry, what were you saying?” Scott asks and Lydia cocks an eyebrow.

“ _Scott_ , don’t lie to me—what’s been going on?” Lydia asks carefully.

“Noth—” _don’t lie to me_.

“I mean,” Scott starts again, rolling his shoulders back, very aware of the way Lydia’s eyes are following him. “I’ve just been having bad dreams lately, that’s all.”

“I have bad dreams sometimes, too. But something that really helps me out is that I have an annoyingly concerned friend who I can call if I need him,” Lydia says pointedly.

Scott smiles, but his eyes look much more tired than usual and Lydia can only focus on that.

“It’s nothing too serious.”

“Uh huh,” Lydia says suspiciously. She sits up straighter and peers into Scott’s eyes. “What have they been about?”

Lydia sees the way Scott freezes for a moment and the way he blushes.

“Well, um, they’ve . . .” Scott’s voice trails off when he sees how intensely Lydia watches him. He desperately wants to not have this conversation with her right now—or anyone ever, actually.

But Lydia’s not going anywhere, Scott knows. Besides, he’d be a hypocrite, wouldn’t he?

“They’ve been about Theo,” Scott rushes out with a wince.

 A rush of anger and anxiety grips at Lydia’s stomach and if Lydia’s eyes could change color, they would.

“Theo _Raeken_?” Lydia demands with a slight snarl. “Theo ‘Destroy-the-McCall-pack-so-I-can-be-the-last-one-with-Scott-a lá-Single-White-Female’ Raeken?”

“Um, uh, y-yeah that Theo?” Scott sputters, stunned by Lydia’s reaction. “I actually don’t know any other Theos?”

“Those are worse than Peter nightmares,” Lydia says quietly.

“No! _Nothing’s_ worse than Peter Hale!” Scott almost yells, his nostrils flared.  

Lydia twists her mouth, shrugs, and nods in agreement.

“And Theo . . . it’s not a big deal,” Scott continues in a much more even tone.

“Not a big—Scott, Theo tried to ruin your relationships with Stiles, Liam _and_ Malia. Then he tried to turn it around and blame _you_ for that,” Lydia cries and she’s starting to feel a little hysterical because Scott just winces again and looks ashamed of himself. Lydia would give anything for Scott to stop looking like that.

“It wasn’t . . . I mean, I definitely could’ve handled him better,” Scott mumbles, eyes downcast.

Lydia’s about to explode on a tirade about Hurricane Theo when something she hadn’t thought about hits her. Kira . . .

“Scott,” Lydia starts, making her voice soft and cautious again, “is Theo the reason you and Kira broke up?”

Scott clams up, his jaw set, and looks down at this notes again.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t want to talk about hits right now,” Scott tells Lydia quietly, avoiding her gaze.

Lydia feels a jolt go through her heart at how _sad_ Scott looks.

“Okay,” Lydia says with nod.

Beside her, Scott sighs and tries to hide his shaking left hand.

**

Lydia and Scott hold hands as they walk back from dinner with other students from lab. Macy looks back at them and smiles brightly. Scott blushes and Lydia makes a face at her.

Scott’s hand feels a little twitchy in Lydia’s.

“Scott?” Lydia questions, looking up at him in concern.

“It’s nothing,” Scott answers almost immediately.

When they reach the Serra House, Lydia turns and looks at Scott with a sad smile.

“You know, you’re going to have to start telling me something other than ‘It’s nothing’ and ‘I’m fine,’” she tells him, running her thumb over his.

Scott looks down at their intertwined hands and smiles ruefully.

“I know.”

**

Scott might as well not have come to class this morning; he’s barely paying attention. He’s taking minimal notes, not answering any questions and wondering how much more he can destroy everything around him.

In Human Bio, he fidgets and wants to crawl out of his skin. Scott thinks about Lydia and Stiles and Kira and his mom and Theo and Derek and Allison and he wants to _fix_ it. Just go back and fix it all, hide any evidence that it was broken. Scott wants to stop himself from following Stiles into the woods to find half a corpse.

Scott thinks his Psych professor would tell him he’s experiencing obsessive thoughts.

**

“Did you call your mom last night, Lydia?” Denise asks pleasantly.

“Yep. I’ve been calling her almost every night since the start of the quarter.”

“That’s good. And how about Malia?”

Lydia rolls her eyes and snorts. “Yeah, Malia and I talk a lot. She mostly checks on me, whines about the cold and asks me when Scott and I are going to have sex.”

Denise laughs loudly and shakes her head, her curly brown hair flying everywhere. “Those types of friends who are usually the best, in my experience.”

“No kidding,” Lydia responds with honesty.

“So you’re talking to friends and family, which is a _very_ good sign,” Denise says, making some notes. “How about your nightmares?”

“Still happening, but not as much,” Lydia reports with a grimace. “Although, in the last couple of the ones I’ve had about Peter, I win.”

“Peter, the creep who attacked you and your friends in high school?”

“The very same creep.”

“Nice.”

Lydia smiles proudly and flips her hair. Denise makes another note and nods to herself. Then she bites her lip and tilts her head.

“Also, about Scott,” Denise says, causing Lydia’s smile to fade.

“Yes?”

“Last time, you mentioned that you were worried about him. Are you still?”

Lydia considers the “I’m fine” and the tired smiles for a long moment.

“Yes, very,” Lydia confirms, shoving her hands into her pocket. “I just . . . I don’t know what I can do, exactly.”

Denise nods and twists her mouth in thought. After a while, she looks at Lydia and raises both eyebrows.

“Try to be there for him the way you think he’d be there for you.”

Lydia stares for a moment, then she blinks and nods.

**

When Lydia gets back into her room, she goes to her window and leans out of it. It’s less cold than usual. Spring might come early this year.

**

Liam’s name flashes across Scott’s phone and Scott doesn’t answer. Stiles texts him and Scott doesn’t answer. Lydia calls twice and Scott doesn’t answer.

Scott doesn’t study. He doesn’t turn on his T.V. or look outside of the door when he sees a shadow that he knows is Corey’s pass by twice.

Scott lies on his bed, eyes red, wishing he could fade into the comforters. To have never been at all.

**

The “Fuck the Housing Rules” pact most _definitely_ goes both ways.

**

Lydia stands outside of Roble Hall at 2:30 am, her hair up in a top knot, wearing a black jacket, holding her phone in her hand. If this phone call to Scott doesn’t work, Lydia’s just going to have to go into his room, RAs be damned.

**

Scott wakes up when he hears his phone ringing. It’s Lydia.

“Scott,” Lydia’s voice sounds scared and Scott sits up immediately. “Scott, I need you.”

“I’m coming!” Scott pries open his window, glancing back at his door to look for Corey’s shadow. Corey might know Scott’s gone, anyway. But Scott doesn’t really care anymore.

**

Lydia bounces from foot-to-foot, waiting for Scott to appear. Suddenly, a figure jumps out of Scott’s window and Lydia suppresses a scream. She stumbles backwards just in time for Scott to land directly in front of her.

“Lydia?! Are you okay? What’s happening, what are you doing here?” Scott rushes out, chest heaving.

Lydia stands stock-still for a moment because she was _not_ expecting that.

“You jump out of your window?” Lydia demands, looking from the third floor window to where they are now.

“Yeah, to get out faster,” Scott answers, as if that’s supposed to be a normal answer.

But nothing is normal for them. That’s _why_ Lydia’s standing outside with Scott at 2:35 am in 30 degree weather.

“What’s going on?” Scott asks again, his voice tight.

Lydia’s frozen again. She has so much to say to Scott that she can’t figure out where to start. After staring for a moment, Lydia steps as close to Scott as possible, looking him in the eye. Lydia puts both of her hands on Scott’s shoulders and feels Scott tense up.

“Scott,” Lydia says slowly, never taking her eyes away from his.

“Yeah . . .”

“Don’t lie to me anymore, okay?”

Scott’s jaw slackens and flinches, like he’s going to run away. But Lydia tightens her grip.

“About what?” Scott asks, but he doesn’t mean the question.

“About _you_ , Scott. You’ve been lying this whole time, haven’t you?” Lydia asks and it’s coming back to her, what she wanted to say. Beneath her hands, Scott starts to shake. “You’ve been lying to me and your mom and Stiles and Liam.”

“Lydia,” Scott’s voice shakes and he _hates_ himself so much for it. He’s on the edge of control and he’ll lose it and he’ll fail and someone will get hurt . . .

“Lydia, I’m—”

“Don’t say you’re fine, Scott! You’re not fine and you know that!” Lydia yells.

“So what am I supposed to say?!” Scott shouts and he shakes himself away from Lydia and steps away. Lydia looks scared and Scott feels trapped.

“What am I _supposed_ to say? What I am supposed to tell you, Lydia?”

“The truth! Whatever it is!”

Scott barks out a humorless laugh and Lydia frowns deeply. He wants to run, but he can never run far way enough.

“The truth? _Really_?” Scott challenges, taking another step away from Lydia. “I don’t even have the right!”

“What makes you say that?” Lydia’s confused and feels like the world is going to tip over any second.

“How could I, Lydia?” His voice is loud and it quivers. “How could I have the right? How can I stand here and complain about nightmares when _I’m_ a nightmare? When I’ve nearly gotten everyone I love killed? When I’m the reason you went through so much last quarter??”

“ _You_? But, but Scott—”

“Don’t say it’s not my fault! Everyone always says that! But you’re _lying!_ ” Scott’s eyes burn and Lydia is staring at him and he’s messed up _again_ , he knows he has!

Lydia suddenly launches forward and grabs Scott’s right hand. With Scott watching in confusion, she places his hand over her heart.

“Does it feel like I’m lying to you, Scott?” Lydia asks gravely. “Does it feel like a lie when I say none of this is your fault?”

Scott feels Lydia’s heartbeat and looks to the ground. He shakes his head minutely.

“So why do you think that I am? That any of us are?”

“How could you be telling the truth?” Scott asks quietly, avoiding Lydia’s eyes. “I can barely protect anyone. I wasn’t able to stop everything that happened. I couldn’t even keep a pack together.”

Lydia takes a deep breath and squeezes Scott’s hand, watching her pale fingers over Scott’s brown ones.

“I’m sorry, Lydia. I’m so sorry,” the words are barely audible, but Lydia’s got great hearing, after all.

“Scott, I’m going to ask you a question,” Lydia rubs Scott’s fingers with her thumb. She looks up at Scott slowly and tries not to cry. “And I need you to let yourself answer me honestly.”

Scott, still avoiding her gaze, nods slowly.

“How are you doing?”

Scott doesn’t answer at first; he just keeps staring at the ground. But then he starts to cry.

“Everything’s falling apart, Lydia,” he tells her through his tears. “Everything’s _always_ falling apart and I can’t ever stop it. I’m sorry. I can’t ever tell you how sorry I am.”

Tears fall down Lydia’s face and she pulls Scott into a hug, holding him as tightly as she can. Lydia wraps her arms around Scott’s neck, holding on for dear life.

Scott sobs as he holds her. Scott cries for every missed call, for every time he’s had to crawl out of a window at 2:00 am because another body was found. He cries for every time Stiles stayed awake all night, for every time Liam couldn’t find him, for him and Kira not being able to depend on each other. He cries for all the times Lydia’s cried. Scott cries for having to hold Allison’s body.

“You’re allowed to need help, too, Scott,” Lydia whispers.

Scott wants to tell her he can’t remember what that feels like. Instead, he just holds on tighter and wonders how it is he hasn’t ruined this yet.

**

Meagan likes Lydia, so Lydia figures she won’t kill her when she discovers Lydia’s snuck Scott past the front desk at 3:30 am.

**

Lydia and Scott fall asleep with their legs intertwined and holding hands.

**

Lydia and Scott wake up at 8:45 am when light floods Lydia’s room.

“So,” Meagan begins, closing the door behind her and casually strolling into Lydia’s room. “About, oh, two hours ago, my friend Corey called me and told me that you two had an intense talk this morning, and he suspected you brought Scott here.” Meagan leans against Lydia’s desk and smiles sweetly.

Scott immediately untangles himself from Lydia and starts to stutter out an explanation. Lydia, who is totally used to Meagan and totally knew this was coming, sits up slowly and yawns.

Meagan smirks at her and Scott gapes. Lydia shrugs.

“It was an emergency,” she says.

Meagan looks thoughtful for a moment, then shrugs.

“Alright,” Meagan says and laughs at Scott’s incredulous face. “But I do have to write you up, Lydia, for Scott staying the night here on a weekday. And Scott, Corey’s gonna be waiting for you all day.”

“A write-up isn’t the worst thing that could happen to me,” Lydia says and she looks over to Scott, who has a reflective look on his face.

“Very true,” Meagan says. “Well, Corey and I just assumed you guys wouldn’t be going to bio this morning, but you might want to go somewhere _else_.” Meagan looks at Lydia directly. Lydia understands and nods solemnly.

Meagan goes to leave Lydia’s room.

“Hey wait,” Scott calls out, a look of bewilderment on his face.

“What’s up?”

“How did Corey hear Lydia and me from the third floor of our dorm?” Scott asks suspiciously.

Lydia raises an eyebrow and watches Meagan closely. Meagan smiles innocently and shrugs.

“He has really good hearing,” she answers with too much emphasis. Then she walks out of Lydia’s room, making sure to close the door behind her.

**

“Should you be missing bio for this?” Scot asks and Lydia looks at him sharply.

Lydia squeezes Scott’s hand and looks at the doors of the counseling center. Déjà vu.

“Bio isn’t really a priority right now,” Lydia answers matter-of-factly. “You are.”

Scott swallows and smiles weakly at her. Then he takes a deep breath and wills his stomach to untangle itself.

“But seriously, you can go to class if you need to. Like you still have thirty minutes to make it here, you don’t have to—”

“Scott!” Lydia interrupts, causing Scott to look into her face. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Scott quiets down and nods. Lydia leans her head and Scott’s shoulder.

“I love you too much to go anywhere,” she says in a quiet voice, praying that Scott knows what she means and doesn’t take off running.

Scott tenses up and peers down at Lydia. Lydia lifts her head off his shoulder and looks directly in his face.

 A voice in the back of his head tells him he’ll ruin this too, that he should’ve hid his feelings better, that this will end like everything else.

Scott ignores the voice in favor of pressing his lips to Lydia’s.

They kiss for a long moment. Then they break apart and Scott leans his forehead against Lydia’s.

“I love you too much to ask you to leave again.”

 

 

 


	3. Going Home

Lydia opens Scott’s window much more easily than she opens her own. It’s looser, what with Scott apparently jumping out of it on occasions. She sticks her head out and takes a comically deep breath. Scott looks over at her from his desk and smiles.

Lydia was right; spring is coming early this year.

**

Scott’s therapy sessions are scheduled for the same time as Tuesday study dates.

“Scott,” Lydia says sternly, cutting her eyes at his apologetic face, “if you apologize for having your _therapy_ scheduled the same time as studying for bio, I will punch you.”

“That’s not nice, Lydia,” Scott shoots back dramatically and Lydia rolls her eyes and whacks Scott on the arm.

“I’m serious! You apologize for _everything_ and I will not let you apologize for this. Got it? I don’t even want you to _look_ like you’re sorry,” Lydia commands, staring Scott directly in his face.

Scott bites his lip and glances down at his lap. Then he puts his hand on the table they’re sitting at and shrugs.

“Scott!!”

“What?! I’m not doing anything, I swear!” Scott bursts into laughter and Lydia makes a loud, exasperated noise.

**

Therapy reaches into parts of Scott’s mind he’d shut down and it’s _hard_ , much harder than Scott thought, especially since he’s telling half-truths and demystifying traumatic events.

Scott can see it all again as he talks. He sees the blood, the deaths, the lies, the smiles of those who meant him no good at all.

Lydia, Meagan and Corey sit with him in Roble Hall’s common room after the first session.

“It’s rough,” Lydia tells him quietly, holding his hand. “It’s really rough.”

Meagan and Corey look at him sympathetically and Lydia runs her fingers over his hand, wishing that taking away pain isn’t an ability that is exclusive to werewolves.

**

At the start of bio Wednesday morning, Lydia takes her seat in front of Scott again. Her warmth and scent keep Scott grounded. Scott’s heat keeps Lydia centered.

They both take the best notes they’ve taken all quarter.

**

There’s a full moon coming out when lab ends.

Scott’s gotten so good at full moons he almost doesn’t notice. It’s Lydia who brings it to his attention; she nudges him and points at it with wonder.

“I don’t feel anxious,” Lydia says slowly, in awe, earning a look from Scott. “Usually, I get worried. But I feel very calm, now.”

Scott looks up at the moon, feeling the soft hum running underneath his skin. It’s the one thing he’d gotten control over in the past couple of years, the one thing that hadn’t slipped entirely from his grasp.

Scott wants to let it go tonight.

Lydia looks at him with a quirked eyebrow, sensing his desire. He walks her to Serra House and kisses her outside of her door.

“I’ll be back later,” he says with red eyes and almost childlike excitement.

Later, from her spot at her window, Lydia hears a howl and barks out a laugh.

“Werewolves,” she mutters, running her fingers over the emerald eyes of her owl necklace.

Scott could swear he hears her as he runs through the woods, feeling free for the first time in a long time.

**

“Lydia,” Denise says proudly, her eyes lightning up.

“Yes?”

“I’m very proud of your progress.”

Lydia smiles and feels a warm burst in her stomach.

“I am, too.”

**

Lydia talks to Malia on the phone as she comes in from dinner on Friday.

“You know, you’re putting more thought into asking Kira out than you’ve put into a lot of other things,” Lydia tells her, sitting down on one of the couches in the common room.

“That’s because _this_ is important!” Malia hisses, but Lydia can hear her blushing.

“Just talk to her when you see for her spring break. You are visiting for spring break, right?”

“Of course. Who else is going to check in on you freaks?”

“Says the girl who’d rather eat deer for every meal of every day.”

“That’s because deer is the superior food and you guys just haven’t accepted that, yet.”

Lydia laughs almost hysterically, holding on to her necklace. Just then, Meagan gets off the elevator, decked out in black athletic gear. Lydia gets distracted for a second by her RA’s physique and makes up her mind then and there.

“Malia, hold on for one second,” Lydia tells. Then she moves the phone to the side of her ear and cries out to her RA. “Hey, Meagan!”

“Yeah?” Meagan asks, turning around with a bright smile.

“I just thought about something—you wouldn’t happen to have a sister, would you?”

Meagan makes a face like she’s trying not to smile too hard and puts her hands on her hips.

“No,” she answers innocently, “but you’d be surprised at how many people assume I do!”

Meagan winks at her and goes to her room. Lydia, face flushed, picks the phone back up.

“Malia, did you hear her say that??” she asks in a hushed tone.

“Yep. Totally Braeden’s twin,” Malia answers with finality.

**

Scott has a floor meeting on Friday night. Corey goes over procedures for the end of winter quarter and gives a rundown of the times he’ll be in his room in case anyone needs him for something.

Scott watches Corey gesticulate excitedly, brown skin with its ever-present glow and locs swinging every which way. Corey and Scott catch eyes and Corey grins broadly.

Scott bites back a shy smile and discretely pulls out his phone when Corey looks away.

To: Stiles

Dude, my RA is totally a supernatural creature.

Scott’s phone lights up mere seconds later.

From: Stiles

OH MY GOD???!!!!?!?! DO YOU THINK HE’S A GOOD CREATURE OR IS HE TRYIGN TO LIKE EAT YOU AND LYDIA OR SOMETHING OHMYGOD!!!!

Scott struggles not to laugh and sneaks a peek at Corey again.

To: Stiles

Totally good, isn’t trying to eat me or Lydia. Don’t know what he is though; might just be psychic or something.

From: Stiles

Scotty, no one is EVER just psychic!!

From: Stiles

What are his habits? Does he go out at night a lot??

From: Stiles

Where was he on Wednesday?? Wednesday was the full moon!!

From: Stiles

OH MY GOD DO YOU THINK HE’S A WEREWOLF TOO?? IS THAT WHY HE’S SO NICE TO YOU ALL THE TIME DOES HE WANT AN ALPHA OR SOMETHING???????

Scott spends the rest of the floor meeting and about two hours after that theorizing with Stiles. They conclude that Scott should totally ask, but Lydia needs to be there too in case things go wrong. It feels good.

**

Lydia and Scott spend half of Saturday studying bio and the other half studying supernatural creatures. Lydia wants to know more about herself and they both want to know more about Corey.

Lydia reads over the pages and pages of banshee info and smiles to herself. The words feel familiar, liking go back home after a long, strange journey.

**

When Melissa calls Sunday afternoon, Scott is honest with her and tells her how hard therapy was and about his nightmare about Deucalion.

Melissa listens and Scott remembers what it’s like to really talk to his mother. He takes a deep breath and doesn’t mind the tears coming to his eyes. They’re refreshing this time.

**

Lydia turns her draft for Writing and Rhetoric in and her professor loves it. After class, she asks Lydia about her technique for crafting such a thorough affirmative argument for the rhetoric of self-transformation.

Lydia smiles cheerily at her professor. “I have a lot of personal experience.”

**

Scott tells his therapist how much time he’s spent trying to wish away the past three years, how much he sometimes wants to crawl out of his own skin and disappear because of what he’d thought he’d done.

His therapist isn’t the first person to tell him he’s being entirely too hard on himself.

**

Lydia sneaks sketches into her sketch book during bio. Scott occasionally peers over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow at her.

Lydia smiles warmly and makes sure to whack him in the face with her hair. No peeking just yet.

**

The entire lab section plans a review day to study for the bio exam. Lydia and Scott jot down notes and listen to loud debates between their classmates.  They’re going to do just fine, Lydia thinks, touching up the dark brown skin on her portrait of Mason.

She surprises herself and Scott by calling Mason after lab. Lydia mischievously tells him Stanford as _such_ cute athletes.

“Hey, I’m gonna go there to learn, okay? Cute guys will _not_ be a distraction!” Mason says indignantly.

Lydia snorts. “Talk to me in a year and a half and we’ll see how true that still is.”

“It will be! Besides, with supernatural RAs and potential hunters and stuff running around on Stanford’s campus, I’ll probably be busy with _other_ things,” Mason says, laughter in his voice.

Lydia’s got to give him that one. “Okay, okay, I believe you.”

“Ha!”

“Plus, you might not be looking for a cute guy if Liam’s going to be your roommate,” Lydia adds. Scott laughs loudly and Mason makes an undignified squawking noise over the phone.

**

Scott’s “Writing and Rhetoric” final draft makes him think about how he’s treated himself. He studies the word “futility” for a long time and realizes how deeply he’s understood its meaning.

On the margins of his hand-written rough draft, Scott lists all of the things he takes responsibility for and all of the things that weren’t his fault. Lydia and his therapist will be so proud.

**

Scott and Lydia ace the bio final. They celebrate by eating chocolate on the roof of Roble Hall, watching the stars come out.

**

Scott’s knee bounces up and down nervously on the bus. Lydia slowly puts a hand on his knee to relax him a little bit. They’re just going home, after all.

**

Beacon Hills looks different, Lydia thinks. Or maybe she’s just different.

Natalie and Sheriff are still dating, Lydia finds out.

“One time thing, huh?” Lydia quips. Natalie blushes and Lydia smiles proudly.

**

Scott stops by Kira’s house the day after he and Lydia get in. He’s only mildly surprised to see Malia there.

“I’m sorry,” Scott says when Kira answers her door.

Kira doesn’t say anything for a moment. She looks down at her feet and takes a deep breath.

“I am too.”

Scott hugs her and gives Malia a wicked smile before going back to his house.

**

Stiles’ face goes pale when he answers the door and sees Lydia standing there. Lydia squints at him and suppresses a laugh when he begins stammer and stutter.

“Lydia! Oh, um, I didn’t you were—I mean, I _thought_ you’d come home, Scott said you were coming home with, but I didn’t think you’d—”

“ _Stiles_ ,” Lydia interrupts with exasperation. Stiles clams up, his eyes wide and nervous looking.

Lydia sticks out her hand. “Friends?”

Stiles blinks rapidly and looks down at Lydia’s hand. Then he smiles and grips it tightly.

“Friends.”

**

When Scott, Liam, Mason, Stiles, Malia and Kira come over to Lydia’s to hang out on the last day of spring break, Lydia sits back and watches her friends, covertly sketching pieces of them. Lydia holds them tightly in her mind and almost cries when she thinks about how far they gotten away from her.

At the top right corner of her paper, she draws a sketch of Allison.

**

Lydia’s Spring Quarter:

  * BIOE 42: Physical Biology of Cells (MWF mornings, lab on F evenings)
  * RELIGST 31: The Religious Life of Things (Friday afternoons)
  * CHEMENG 20: Introduction to Chemical Engineering (Tuesday, Thursday mornings)
  * MATH 87Q: Mathematics of Knots, Braids, Links, and Tangles (Wednesday afternoons)
  * PHIL 172B: Recent Ethical Theory ( Thursday evenings)



Lydia reads over her schedule with interest and glances at the layout for signing up for next autumn quarter. She makes sure to add a couple of art classes in.

**

Scott’s Spring Quarter:

  * BIOE 42: Physical Biology of Cells (MWF mornings, lab on F evenings)
  * PHIL 80: Mind, Matter, and Meaning (Thursday afternoons)
  * CEE 178: Introduction to Human Exposure Analysis (Tuesday, Thursday mornings)
  * MS&E 152: Introduction to Decision Analysis (Monday afternoons)
  * RELIGST 17N: Love, Power, and Justice (ER) (Friday afternoons)



Scott’s therapist tells him they have to move his sessions to Wednesdays instead of Tuesday and apologizes profusely for any inconvenience the change causes Scott.

Scott just smiles.

“It’s okay.”

**

Meagan somehow convinces the entire floor to go on a jog with her the first day the temperature is above 65 degrees.

Lydia stays right behind her RA the entire time, her necklace bouncing against her chest.

“Come on, guys!” Meagan calls back with an almost unnatural combination of cheeriness and slyness (she’s _so_ an emissary.) Meagan speeds up, muscles pumping.

“You want us to run like we’re being chased or something!” one of the girls whines to Meagan.

Meagan laughs, glances back and winks at Lydia, who’s been watching Meagan the entire time.

“No!” Meagan huffs back happily. “I want you guys to run like _you’re_ chasing something!” Meagan takes off running then and other girls groan.

Lydia smirks, imagines a future worth chasing, and takes off running at top speed.

**

So, Corey is not a werewolf. Corey is a were _-coyote_ , like Malia.

Corey and Scott run the woods together, eyes aglow, fangs out, moving like the wind can’t hold them.

Lydia and Meagan sit up in the common room past midnight, chatting, making sure their were boys come in at least one piece. Lydia shows Meagan the sketch she did of her and preens when Meagan gushes.

Scott comes in with wild hair and bright red eyes. Lydia laughs and kisses the Alpha until his eyes turn brown again.

**

Lydia tells Denise that classes are easy again for the first time in more than a year.

“Well, maybe that’s because you’re spending less than having to escape other things,” Denise theorizes.

Lydia thinks she’s right.

**

After lab on Friday evening, Scott and Lydia’s classmates decide to hang out in one of the graduate student’s apartments. They take turns making up tall tales and Scott and Lydia team up to tell the story of a teen wolf who met a banshee and how the two of them survived.

“That’s intense,” Macy comments when they end. “You guys have some serious imaginations there!”

Yeah, kind of. Not really.

**

To: Stiles, Liam, Mason

So Lydia and I found out my RA is a were coyote and her RA is probably his emissary.

To: Stiles, Liam, Mason

But she might just be his girlfriend who’s super tough and knowledgeable, though. We’re not totally sure yet.

From: Stiles

OH MY GOD?!?!?!?!?!

From: Mason

Dude, that’s SOOO awesome, what????

From: Mason

Was he born a were coyote or was he bitten?? How long her emissary training take?? This is so cool???!!!

From: Liam

So wait, are they are part of the pack now? They’re gonna be nice, right?? Corey won’t fight me, will he?

From: Stiles

SCOTT STOP COLLECTING SUPERNATURAL CREATURES OUR PACK NEEDS NO MORE, THANKS!!!!

From: Mason

Aww, come on!! Let’s give him a chance, it might work out!!

From: Mason

He and Malia can bond and I can learn more about being emissary, tell me this doesn’t sound like a great idea!!!

From: Liam

I’m cool with it as long as no one loses a limb or anything like that.

To: Stiles, Liam, Mason

You guys are great.

**

Weeks come and go and finals come faster. Everyone around Lydia is freaking out. Some of them have to get a certain percentage to pass and some need an A+. Some need more scholarships and others just need to not be freshmen again.

Lydia writes her letter of intent to declare her biology major with ease. There are much scarier things than college.

**

Scott has a flashback to when he took a drop form for his AP Biology class. He laughs as he reads the email from his advisor congratulating him on his acceptance into Stanford’s Biology program.

**

Lydia sweeps her floor one last time. She checks to make sure she’s gotten rid of all of the trash. Lydia stops for a moment and looks at the mirror, touching the spot where she’d made the crack all the way back in November.

The glass is smooth, her reflection unscathed.

Natalie calls Lydia’s name, pulling her from her thoughts. They put the last of Lydia’s bags into the car and Lydia gives Meagan a tight hug.

“Call me when you get to Beacon Hills,” Meagan reminds as they pull apart. “Otherwise, I’ll blow up your phone.”

Lydia smiles and promises to regale Meagan in all of the tales of home.

As they head out, Natalie glances back at Meagan smiles warmly.

“She’s so nice,” she says happily. “I’m glad you and her are friends.”

Lydia smirks and bites the inside of her cheek.

“Me, too.”

**

As Melissa and Scott drive away from Roble Hall, Scott gets two texts. One from Corey, telling him that he’ll be near Beacon Hills in two weeks. Scott smiles; he can’t wait to see Stiles’ reaction.

The other is from Lydia, who is two cars ahead of them now. It’s a picture she’s drawn of all of them, done up with deep colors. Scott’s stomach jumps, his face turns warm. In the picture, they all look happy, warm. Free.

From: Lydia

It’s not quite done yet :)

To: Lydia

It’s beautiful.

Scott’s phone vibrates in his head a couple of minutes later. He feels the vibration deep underneath his skin. It merges with the blood in his veins and he grins.

From: Lydia

It’ll be more beautiful when we get home.

**

Lydia reads Scott’s texts with a goofy smile and butterflies in her stomach. Natalie laughs happily and says “Ooooh” when she sees Lydia reply.

To: Scott

I love you, Scott McCall.

Lydia slides her phone in her pocket and leans back into her seat. When her phone vibrates, it’ll be Scott saying he loves her.

Lydia glances in the rearview mirror, at the car behind her. Then she closes her eyes and thinks of home.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooooooo my God, I'm finished.
> 
> So yeah, that's my story. I hope you guys enjoy and thanks to everyone who sent me nice messages and reblogged the links with nice tags :)
> 
> Also, random fact, I listened to a lot of Florence + the Machine and the Alabama Shakes while writing this.


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